Shards of Alderaan

7

As the storm system came through, a stiff breeze tore across the stubbly grass and weeds of the Great Temple’s landing field. The construction scaffolding jiggled, making the balance precarious for the crew of New Republic construction workers shoring up rebuilt sections of wall.

Now that the Lightning Rod had departed, the young Jedi Knights turned their efforts toward fixing Lowbacca’s T-23 skyhopper, which had been damaged by the Second Imperium’s battle platform. While Jaina worked above, Lowie squatted beside the small craft, examining a rip in the engine compartment.

The wind suddenly gusted around the partially open cockpit, tearing free a sheet of transparisteel Jaina was attempting to fasten into the front windows. Her mind had been wandering—as usual of late, to thoughts of Zekk—when she lost her grip, and she could do nothing to grab the transparisteel in time.

Lowie howled in pain and surprise as the sheet thunked him on the head. “Oh, my,” Em Teedee said. “I’m certainly glad that didn’t strike me! My circuits could have been irreparably damaged.”

Jaina leaned over the T-23’s canopy, startled and abashed. “Sorry, Lowie.”

The young Wookiee rubbed the bump forming beneath the dark streak of fur on his head and gave a rumble of understanding. “Master Lowbacca assures me he has sustained no permanent injury,” Em Teedee said.

Jacen, who was cleaning the carbon scoring off one of the skyhopper’s attitude fins, popped up, grinning. “Bet you were thinking about Zekk again—weren’t you, Jaina? I can’t imagine anything else that could distract you from your favorite kind of work.”

Tenel Ka jumped down next to Lowie, landing with her feet spread, perfectly balanced. “I apologize. The error was mine, friend Lowbacca,” she said. The warrior girl picked up the transparisteel patch and hefted it back to the top of the skyhopper. “Jaina requested my assistance, but I was not watching when that gust struck.”

“Hey, don’t tell me you were thinking about Zekk, too,” Jacen teased.

Tenel Ka shook her head emphatically; her thick red-gold braids lashed and swirled in the wind. “No, not at the moment. However, I received a message from Hapes yesterday. I am anticipating … something from my parents and my grandmother.”

“What’re you waiting for?” Jaina asked. Lowie added his own questioning growl. Jaina leaned down and tossed the lanky Wookiee a tube of metal cement.

“Hey, I’ll bet she’s waiting for me to tell her a joke,” Jacen said. “Isn’t that right, Tenel Ka?”

“This is a fact,” Tenel Ka answered with a perfectly straight face. “But in addition to your joke, I have been waiting for a … delivery.”

“What is it?” Jaina asked.

“Don’t tell me,” Jacen said. “Uncle Luke has asked for some rancors from Dathomir to help with the rebuilding project. That’d be great, wouldn’t it? I always wanted to see one up close.” Then he paused, as if considering whether he really meant it. “Well …”

“I believe,” Tenel Ka said, nodding toward a pair of ships that had just appeared on the jungle horizon, “this is the delivery I have been expecting.”

Lowie and Jaina scrambled to get a better look. A strong wind caught at the Wookiee’s ginger fur, making it flutter in tufts like dozens of tiny pennants. The two ships were approaching carefully because of the unpredictable gusts and crosswinds.

Jaina studied the design of the craft approaching them. “They look vaguely Hapan, but not a design I’m familiar with.”

Jacen groaned. “This isn’t one of those diplomatic visits, is it? No offense, Tenel Ka, but if you’re expecting one of your grandmother’s associates, I think I’d prefer to clean the kitchens for a while. I hope Ambassador Yfra isn’t out of prison already!”

“If this were one of my grandmother’s diplomatic associates,” Tenel Ka answered wryly, “perhaps I would join you at the cleaning chores. But I am expecting a gift.”

Jaina had met Tenel Ka’s parents, the rulers of the Hapes Cluster, when she and the other young Jedi Knights had gone there after Tenel Ka’s lightsaber accident. Although Isolder and Teneniel Djo were as protective of their daughter as any parents, they had strongly supported Tenel Ka’s wish to become a Jedi Knight.

“At first I refused to consider their offer of such an extravagant gift,” the warrior girl went on, “but they were concerned for my safety after our battle with the Shadow Academy. In the end I agreed; only my pride had caused me to resist in the first place.” She quirked an eyebrow. “My grandmother is now hoping I will reconsider accepting a prosthetic arm.”

The repulsorjets of the two approaching craft set up cross breezes that sent everyone’s hair flying wildly about their faces.

“I told no one about this gift except Master Skywalker,” Tenel Ka said. “I had hoped to surprise you. Especially Jaina.”

Jaina tried to push her wind-blown brown hair away from her face, but it was no use. “Well, okay,” she said. “Surprise me.”

Tenel Ka blinked her cool gray eyes. Then she raised her arm and pointed at one of the midsized Hapan ships that had just settled on the landing field.

“My parents have sent me the Rock Dragon. It is a ship of my own.”

Jaina’s mouth dropped open and she found herself at a loss for words.

“Hey, that’s great, Tenel Ka,” her brother said, rushing forward to look over the new ship. Lowie bellowed in delight and ran after him.

Jaina stood motionless, still thunderstruck. For years she had wanted her own ship; she had even tried to fix up the crashed TIE fighter they’d found in the jungle. On their last visit home, she had presented a list of carefully reasoned arguments to her mother. After all, if she and Jacen were old enough to fight with lightsabers, couldn’t they be trusted with a small shuttle? Leia had promised to consider the idea, but preferred that the twins wait until they turned at least sixteen to have their own interstellar craft.

Her father had merely shrugged. “I know better than to argue with your mom when it comes to protecting you kids.” He had flashed one of his lopsided grins and spread his arms in an expressive gesture. “Hey, if it were up to me …”

Each time Han came to see his children, though, he brought some sort of machinery for Jaina to work on—an old hyperdrive unit, a field flux stabilizer, a refurbished antenna dish, a mode variance inhibitor. She figured it was her father’s version of a compromise—or maybe an apology.

Tenel Ka must have sensed some of Jaina’s conflicting emotions. The warrior girl frowned. “You are not … angry? Angry that I have my own ship?” Her gray eyes looked into Jaina’s. “I had hoped to ask you for a favor.”

Jaina’s gaze dropped, and she bit her lower lip. Was she angry? Lowie had his T-23, and now Tenel Ka had a ship for her personal use. But the warrior girl was one of her best friends, and she couldn’t begrudge Tenel Ka this piece of good fortune. Feeling guilty over her own pettiness, Jaina shook her head. “Just a bit jealous, I guess.”

“In that case, perhaps the favor is not fair to you. I had no great wish to own a ship, though for my parents’ sake it was right to accept it. I had hoped that—should the need arise—Jacen and I could provide communications, weaponry, and navigational support, if you and Lowbacca would consent to serve as pilot and copilot…? And chief mechanics, of course.”

Jaina’s head snapped back up and she gave a whoop of delight nearly as loud as the howling of the wind as the storm continued to build.

“Then you will consider my request?” Tenel Ka asked, her warrior braids rippling in the wind like velvety red-gold ribbons.

Jaina was sure her father and mother would not object to such an arrangement. After all, Jaina would simply be helping a friend now and then. She grinned broadly. “I think you’ve got yourself a crew.”

Accompanying Tenel Ka, Jaina bounded over to where her brother and Lowie were already examining the compact vessel.

“Hey, this isn’t a very new ship, Tenel Ka,” Jacen said.

Tenel Ka rapped her fist against a stained spot on the hull with a satisfying thud. “This is a fact,” she said.

“Lowie says the sublight engines need a tune-up,” Jacen added.

“Looks like that comm transmitter’s out of alignment, too,” Jaina observed.

“I don’t get it,” Jacen said. “Your parents can afford the best that credits can buy. How come they sent you an old clunker instead of a luxury speeder?”

Jaina ran a shrewd eye over the craft. “I’m not familiar with this type of ship, but I’ll bet she’s got it where it counts,” she said, “no matter what she looks like on the outside.”

“Ah. Aha,” Tenel Ka said. “My parents reasoned that it would be unwise to call attention to my personal vessel by making it elegant and luxurious.” A rare smile quirked the corner of Tenel Ka’s mouth. “Also, I believed Jaina and Lowbacca would prefer a ship they could spend time tinkering with.”

Jaina realized that her friend was right. She chuckled. “This is a fact.”

“The Rock Dragon has significant advantages, too,” Tenel Ka went on. “For example, my grandmother helped decide which subsystems to install, adding many items no standard ship would carry. Also, it displays no markings of the Royal House of Hapes, nothing to mark it as a potential target.”

“I guess that makes sense. A nondescript ship wouldn’t attract attention from assassins or any other enemies,” Jacen said. “Who named it the Rock Dragon, anyway—kind of strange, isn’t it?”

“I named the ship myself. On Hapes, ships are often called ‘dragon.’ The term ‘rock dragon’ comes from Dathomir, though. It is a child’s nickname for an animal I once saw there,” Tenel Ka said. “Small, but highly dangerous. The creature has rough mottled skin that acts as camouflage when it hides in the rocks to guard its nest. A rock dragon eats only plants and insects, but if attacked, it defends its nest ferociously and stings its enemy. Its poison is strong enough to kill a full-grown rancor.”

Jacen whistled.

“Good name for a ship,” Jaina said. “Let’s take it for a short spin.”